


Eden

by FleetingWonderland



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:31:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1756383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetingWonderland/pseuds/FleetingWonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elena and Ruslan take on their first public appearance as a team, with varied results. Elena reflects, Ruslan falls, and Adelina is the best winglady.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eden

**Author's Note:**

> Real people, not real events.  
> Written on a whim, to distract from finals. Unbeta-ed and posted late.

_Let me paint a picture for you then I'll have to teach you to see it_  
 _Illustrate the remnants of the life I used to live here in Eden_  
 _Rolled a lucky pair of dice, ended up paradise_  
 _Landed on a snake's eyes, took a bite and ended up bleeding_

 

* * *

 

"Do you have anything you wear to banquets and stuff?" Elena asks hurriedly in Russian, dragging Ruslan's arm down a street filled with fashionable shops while he carries an umbrella to shield the two of them from a light drizzle that had begun to fall on the fashion district of Moscow. "A suit?"

He smiles crookedly while she cranes her neck for a certain place. "I didn't know where to shop. I got lent a spare at Nationals this season by, uh..." He trails off, but she knows he's going to say 'Nikita.'

Ruslan, who had barely known a life beyond Nike basketball shorts and t-shirts outside the rink, has to be taken on an emergency shopping trip only hours before the gala, once she finds out his suit is two sizes too big and is borrowed from Nikita (Ruslan promises he has no intention of ever returning it.)

Noticing a formal display in a fine-looking shop during her scan of the shop-lined street, she pulls him into the entirely monotone building and drags him up to a saleslady, who's eyes widen upon seeing Elena.

"Elena Ilinykh! Bronze medalist! You were incredible in Sochi!" she gushes in Russian, complimenting everything from her free dance tutu to her short program's silver headband. Elena blushes modestly and sets her mouth in a small smile, Ruslan notices. But her eyes are hard and her jaw is set.

She doesn't want to talk about it. She doesn't want to think about Nikita. And he completely understands, because he wants nothing to do with Viktoria anymore either.

Ruslan cuts into the saleslady's worship of Elena. "Ma'am, we're looking for a suit for me. We really need to hurry, we have an event tonight," he says quietly but sternly, and Elena turns her head and smiles in thanks.

The saleslady nods hurriedly, asking for his measurements and not recognizing who he is. He doesn't expect it, but he and Viki have been all over the Russian tabloids, so he's a little surprised no one has noticed him, especially with Elena around. She's a media darling now, even bigger in the tabloids than him, and about five random people had stopped her on the street, asking for a picture.

He took three of them and had poked at her after the happy fans had walked away.

They hurriedly try him in several charcoal gray suits, until he finds one that actually fits him. She grabs a tie from the display, not bothering to try it beyond quickly comparing it to his neck and nodding.

The cashier eyes them when Elena pulls out a golden debit card, swiping it quickly and signing her name. Ruslan watches as the cashier's eyes light up with recognition when he sees her name on the computer screen, and is amused when he asks for her autograph.

After about every employee in the high-end shop had gotten pictures with Elena in every pose possible, they bustle back to the rink, where they both need to shower and dress quickly, if they even want to make the press line at the gala, because of how impossibly far away the hotel the gala is being held at is from their rink.

 

* * *

 

She and Ruslan look good, she makes sure of it. She straightens her hair hurriedly while he stands behind her, attempting to tie his tie, to little avail. She's half-watching him and laughing at his meager attempts to make himself look presentable. After turning off her hair straightener and setting it down onto a bench in the ladies' locker room, Elena turns around and does his tie while laughing quietly at his mild incompetence. She looks up at him and gives a genuine smile, her eyes holding true joy for the first time since they've partnered.

_(He thinks he feels his heart skips a beat.)_

She takes a step back after smiling up at him, putting on her high heels and closing their height difference significantly.

Elena is not going to let herself show weakness again - sharp eyeliner and strong eyeshadow, sharp-toed high heels, and all black make for an intimidating look, she supposes.

_She is **not** going to break again._

 

* * *

 

After calling and climbing into a taxi, she scrolls aimlessly through her Instagram, finding nothing of note. Glancing over at Ruslan, she takes a picture of the two of them and captions it about how they're going to the gala together.

A couple of comments instantly pop up reading 'princess!' and 'absolutely gorgeous!' and she smiles. Ruslan even gets some compliments too, and Elena feels pretty good about it. Her happiness is contagious and he smiles at her relaying of how 'utterly dashing!' he looks in a suit.

She feels strong and beautiful for the first time in quite a while. The swaying of the car slowly lulls her exhausted body and mind into sleep, her face pressed against Ruslan's broad shoulder, happier than ever.

 

* * *

 

She hadn't even felt that happy at Sochi, bronze medal around her neck, because she knows what it took to get her there.

Nikita and their constant arguing, pleading to the Russian federation for more money, Morozov and his sleazy ways and her desperate need to not become the next Miki or Shae-Lynn, another skater he beds and weds, until he sees a newer, younger, better skater and changes his entire demeanor, dumping them at the first opportunity.

(She did become another Miki, another Shae-Lynn, another Caroline despite her best attempts. She ended up drunk in Nikolai's bed one too many times, and woke up alone even more often. He would stroke her and call her his pet when they were alone, but wouldn't stop when they were in public. Nikolai would kiss her on the lips in front of Nikita, grab at her ass, make some suggestive comments, and overall rub it in Nikita's face that he had won her, yet again.)

Elena can't forget Nathalie and Fabian's crestfallen faces backstage when they realize it wasn't enough, because Nathalie and Fabian are retiring and she and Nikita have a good few years left in their skating careers. She can't forget their hug, full of longing and fear of the future and friendship that is so strong it seems to radiate a glow around them, even as Fabian gripped Nathalie's waist with a strong grip and eye makeup smeared on Nathalie's face.

(Not to mention that Nikita had laughed at her concern, at her sympathy, calling the devastated French pair 'grandparents playing at toddlers' and commenting cruelly that they shouldn't have even bothered trying. She holds herself back from telling him she knew they were over scored, because he'd have flown into a rage, like he did whenever she disagreed.)

She didn't feel that way with Nikita - the friendship, the closeness that Nathalie and Fabian or Tessa and Scott or Meryl and Charlie had. Tessa and Scott are backstage and look disappointed but unsurprised that Meryl and Charlie won. Scott pressed a soft kiss to Tessa's cheek, cradling it for a second and leading her out of the room, in front of her and Nikita, trying to make a joke about how Tessa was a winter and looked better in cool colors and silver anyway. Meryl, while skating over to the podium set up on the ice gives Elena a small nod and a smile full of joy which Elena returns as she clutched Charlie's hand, rising to the top at last.

(She knows Meryl wouldn't have slept with _her_ coach, and briefly considers asking for her advice later, because Meryl seems so intelligent and worldly and wise and Elena needs someone outside her tiny Russian group to help her out, someone who isn't under Nikolai's evil spell either.)

Nikita had been angry with her because of Morozov, even on the bronze podium. His touches were faked and his demeanor was always subtly angry during Sochi, even though she had broken up with Nikolai shortly before, even though they helped win team gold for Mother Russia.

She didn't tell Nikolai why she broke up with him, she didn't tell him that she and Nikita had stumbled into his hotel room together after Nationals, after they realized that yes, they were going to the Olympics.

She didn't want to tell Morozov she and Nikita had slept together again, because she barely wanted to acknowledge it herself. Nikita was a selfish, jealous lover, and she hadn't even come, though he demanded she look into his eyes the entire time. But he was nice to look at when he wasn't steadily looking at her with those _eyes,_ when he wasn't ravaging her with a hunger she hadn't known was there. They were celebrating anyways, and they were both a little tipsy, and she had hoped she wouldn't have remembered but she did. After they had finished, he had fallen to sleep's resistance quickly and she had laid there, his arm holding her against his body in a lock, guilt collecting in her throat.

How did her easy little skating bubble become so horrible?

 

_When did she sell herself out?_

 

* * *

 

Ruslan gently shakes her awake from her nightmare of a recollection.

"Lena," he prompts quietly in Russian, concern layered over his voice. "You passed out, started shaking, mumbling about... Nathalie? Fabian? Meryl? Are you okay? Do you just want to go back home?"

She shakes her head and yawns. "No... I think I'm just tired. It's been a long day," Elena responds, checking her eye makeup in a compact pulled from her tiny clutch of a handbag. "I'm up for some vodka, because we've gotta numb ourselves before we run into Niki and Viki," she snickers at the teasing nickname Ruslan had given their ex-partners the day they auditioned. "What about you?"

Ruslan laughs. "Lena, we've got press to deal with first, before we try to get drunk. And certain... People to avoid too, before you can get your drink on. C'mon, we've gotta go." He pats her shoulder and turns towards the door, looking back before he opened it.

"Time to avoid the assholes who betrayed us!" Elena said finally, voice exaggerated and arms out, gesturing him to open his door, and therefore beginning the desperate, unending flashes of paparazzi.

 

  
 _You know if I could change anything, I think I would start with the name_  
 _The truth is all those angels started acting the same_  
 _And I know there's no going back now cause_  
 _Life in Eden_  
 _Life in Eden changed_

  
_No way to make the pain play fair_  
 _It doesn't disappear just because you say it isn't there_  
 _So when they ask why'd she go you can say cause_  
 _Life in Eden_  
 _Life in Eden changed_  
 _Life in Eden changed_

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love love love the Ruslena dynamic of friendship, and I wanted to put my take in on their outing to the Olympic gala, especially when we all know Niki and Viki were there too (ugh).
> 
> This was a set up chapter, Team Russia (especially Adelina!) will make a much larger appearance later. I don't really know how long I want this to be, I'll just play it by ear.
> 
> This chapter is for Mers (@merylsdavis on tumblr) to cheer her up after a bad day. I really hope you enjoy - it'll get happier later. Probably.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and a reminder that this is real people, but not real events.
> 
> (find me @nathaliepechalats on tumblr!)


End file.
